


For the Weekend

by Faestae



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Pretend Relationship, Romantic Comedy, Some angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2018-10-17 13:30:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10594998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faestae/pseuds/Faestae
Summary: It's your best friend's birthday! You've been invited to tag along on a weekend vacation to the high desert where a vacation house awaits, but there was one thing she forgot to mention:Your ex was going--and so was his new girlfriend.In a panic, and only a little bit drunk, you text your buddy Ben with the craziest idea you've ever concocted...





	1. Bad Idea Rising

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imagines_in_a_galaxy_farfar_away](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagines_in_a_galaxy_farfar_away/gifts).



> OKAY SO....
> 
> I know I was supposed to be working on other things, but I've had this idea floating around in my head for SO. LONG. And I know I've mentioned it to some people, but after sharing it with Hailee, she inspired me so much that I was able to crank out the first chapter.
> 
> This story is inspired by true events and real thoughts that I've actually had, but I hope you enjoy it and I hope that it resonates with you in some way ^^
> 
> Oh, and this is dedicated to Hailee because she's awesome and has been amazing to let me talk her ear off about this. She truly is a brilliant mind and a dear friend. So without further ado, here's For the Weekend!

This was the worst idea you’ve ever had.

Hands down.

Worse than the time you put paper towels in your wet shoes to mop up the water and worse than your plan to shove the last of the all-you-can eat sushi into your bag so you wouldn't have to pay the wasted food fee. You could think of a hundred thousand things you’ve done in your life that were not-so-bright or even slightly rushed (the bacon pan incident and of course that time with that dumb parking meter), but this-- this was just stupid. And when you had your last supreme moment of hesitation, it was too late.

You already knocked.

“Yeah-- one sec!”

The door opened quickly and in its threshold was Ben. He grinned when he saw you, his shoulder leaning into the door and chest flexing from underneath a heathered grey shirt. “Hey, kid!” He said with a smile, “There you are, I--”

“--Hey--” you said with a start. Why did you cut him off? “--Ben--” Fuck. You swallowed the urge to tell him you wolfed down a shot before walking over here to justify your abruptness. Would that even be a good excuse? “I-is now still a good time? I know--it was such short notice, but--, “ Peeking around his arm, you looked for an excuse to dismiss yourself.

“Yeah, no, no!” He said pushing up off the door frame, “Come on in--I've been waitin’ for ya,”

The last time you were in Ben Organa-Solo’s apartment was when the power in your building went out two weeks ago. You had five pounds of lasagna that needed to be baked and eaten and Ben was ready, willing, and able to help. And of course that time you fucked. But that was once-- and it was a little weird.

But aside from that, everything was just as you remembered it. A sunken-in couch, massive TV with every major game console hooked up to it, and the residual smell of his cologne that wafted around you. The walls were packed nearly corner to corner with movie posters in ten dollar frames and on the mantle were various photographs of the people in his life. Even you were in one, a selfie from the campus Halloween party, right next to a less raunchy picture of Ben with his triplet brothers. The kitchen was a hot mess of empty packets of instant Mac and cheese everywhere but the trash. The trash bag sat tied up, ready to go, but the one beside it was already full. The air smelled like Febreeze you’re supposed to use on fabric that he just sprayed. The heavy scent particles hung heavy in the air, you nose tingling as you entered.

He closed the door behind you, sealing you into your crazy plan; you jumped at the sound of the lock clicking.

“So what's up, buttercup,” he said with a grin, “why the long face?”

“Uh--” Okay. Just--breathe, dude. Try not looking at him when you say it--play it cool--just like you practiced. “Okay so--” No, that’s not it--try again, “You see--” Come on! Focus!

“Y/N?”

Ben leaned down, putting his massive hands on your shoulders to steady you as you were snapped from your trance, “Everything okay, kid? You’re shaking.”

“Yeah...c-can I sit down?” You stammered.

“Yeah, yeah...here,” He led you by the shoulder to the couch, ready to catch you if you were to suddenly collapse, and you were close; considering the words were still waiting to be puked out into the Febreezed atmosphere. The tangible nature of this moment was not as comfortable as your imagination--something you could turn off if absolutely need-be.

This was reality. You were actually doing this, like for real, there was no turning back. Ben was actually sitting beside you in his sunken couch, one hand on the cushion in-between you and the other on the back of your neck, rubbing you affectionately.

“Your texts were kinda urgent.” he said quietly, the hand that rubbed you, tucking your hair behind your ear “..is everything okay?”

You looked up at him and your next breath was caught in your throat. This was it.

“Yeah,” you lied, “Yeah, look..Ben, I uh--” You cleared your throat and held your own hand, squeezing your fingers anxiously. You settled on covering your nose and mouth, “I uh..”

Oh god--here it comes. Word vomit? Vodka vomit?

“I..need a favor..from you,”

Ben beamed, “Of course, kid!” he sat back, putting his arm over the back of the couch around you, “What’s up?”

What? Just like that? “N-no no no,” you babbled, releasing your hands, “D-don’t.. Don’t agree to anything, I haven’t..even told you what I need yet--I could have asked you scrub my toilet with a toothbrush,”

“I said ‘anything’,” Ben chuckled, “Besides, you just got a new bowl. No biggie,” he leaned forward again, putting his forearms on his knees and turning his body towards you, “Come on,” he said softly, “What’s up--you know you can tell me anything,”

Your heart panged with something hot--like that night you spent here that you don’t ever talk about. He was right: Ben Organa-Solo was your rock--that guy friend you stumbled upon who wouldn’t trade for anything. He was the one who helped you up when you fell off that table back in college, and the one you ended up tutoring to get him through literature analysis. Even after graduation, you stayed that close. After stumbling into each other in your apartment’s laundry room, you and Ben became inseparable: gym outings, late night gaming and barhopping. You told Ben everything and he kept you company, talking to you until the wee hours of the morning, building pillow forts in his living room. He was there when Jack left you, and that was why you were here now.

“You remember, Adrina...don’t you?” you said slowly, “My best friend from college? We did that--game project together-- and we always went to Starbucks after class?”

“Mhm,” he replied. His attention made your heart skip a beat--was actually listening. Ben’s presence was like a warm hand on your heart, the words that you had to restart your script over and over in your head, coming easier with every moment.

“Well...her birthday is coming up and she’s going up to the desert to celebrate--they’ve got this...vacation house they rented for the weekend. I haven’t seen her in...months..almost a whole year. Not since Jack--” you cleared your throat, “And I want to go to her party, but,” you stole a glance at Ben, who was actively listening, his hand now suddenly over yours. He squeezed your fingers.

“Jack is going,” you nearly choked on the tears that pressured you from the inside, “And he’s got this new girlfriend--Ashley or something--and Andi says she doesn’t like me, like she’s scared of me or something making Jack do all this weird shit like juice cleanses and hot yoga, but I already paid my share to go, and I was going to go anyway because fuck it, but now I'm having second thoughts--so now I just...” you stopped to breathe, putting your face in your hands. Exhaling hard, you felt the butterflies storming in your chest.

“I need you to come with me,” you said, “P-please,”

The silence that followed was deafening; you weren’t even sure if you said out loud what you needed to say. You looked up at Ben for a reaction, but he was just searching your face. He smiled easily,

“You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend,”

“Wh-what--wait no!” you gasped “That’s not what I said!”

Ben burst out laughing, cheeks flushing a delightful pink. He rocked back into the couch, his baritone laughter shaking you to your core. He came back down to you, snickering and nudging you with his knuckles, “Come on, kid--don’t be like that,”

“I wasn’t implying you pretend to be my boyfriend!” That was exactly what you were implying. “I asked you to come with me!”

“Come with you and do what, tell everyone I’m your ‘just-friend’ Ben Organa-Solo while your ex boyfriend macks on some other girl?” he was still giggling, but the thought of Jack with his tongue down this girl’s throat made you absolutely nauseous.

“I--I don’t know!” you admitted, “I didn’t even think you’d consider it! Never mind make a joke about it,”

Laughter subsiding, Ben sat back on the couch, his knees set firmly apart and arm back over the back of the couch. He looked at the blank TV with a few scattered snickers before looking back at you. “Alright, so when is it?” he beamed, “Is there gonna be a pool? Should I ask my dad if we can take the Falcon?”

Defeated, you dragged your hands down your face. You looked over at him bitterly, “Are you serious right now?”

“Of course I’m serious!” he said happily. Ben looped his arm around you and squeezed you tight, “Did you think I’d say no?”

“I don’t know!” You wailed putting your face back in your hands, “It’s just--” Jesus, he smelled so good.

“I know, I know,” Ben said lowering his voice. “Look, kid, all jokes aside, I know how much you value your friendship with Adrina and I know how things were with Jack.”

You pulled your hands from your face to see him.

Ben searched your eyes for a moment, his gaze growing softer with every moment he beheld you. “I know you’re anxious and scared about this, but if all you want me to do is go with you to stand guard and tell a joke if it gets awkward, I can do that,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he said gently, pressing his finger into your nose, “I’m sure,”

Relieved didn’t even begin to describe the warmth that spread through your chest when he booped you. You exhaled and fell forward, laying your head against his chest. Ben wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back with his hand.

“Thank you, Ben..” you whimpered into his chest. “I'm sorry this is so...weird,”

“As if nothing else in our lives is weird,” Ben smiled, pulling back and holding you at half an arms length. “Remember that time you put paper towels in your shoes?”

Your mind flashed instead to that fuzzy memory of his bedroom and your fist in his sheets; and all of that moaning. A nervous laugh escaped you, “How could I forget?”

Weird was right.

“Anyway, I--uh--better get going--” you said getting up, tucking your hand behind your ear. “I've got to pick up a birthday present for Andi-- and some other things for the trip. I’ll text you the details for packing and stuff..”

“Yeah yeah! Here, let me get that for you,” Ben jumped up to his feet and followed you to the door.

Watching him unlock it made you feel light and free, but when you went to cross the threshold, you paused. Turning to look at him one last time, you felt that pang of fear again.

“Ben,” you began, “I have...no idea what this trip is going to be like. Are you sure you want to go..? Like really really sure?”

“Of course, kid,” he replied, his doofy smile making your heart throb extra hard, “Never been so sure about anything in my life, and besides,” he winked, “it's just for the weekend.”

  
  



	2. But First, Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben agreed to tag along to Adrina's party under a solid oath: no fake relationship.
> 
> Yeah. You already know where this is going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow okay yeah it's time for part two! Not only is this chapter three times as long as the one before it, it has several key moments that I wanted to really take my time with. Chances are, this will see edits over the week..Anyway, enjoy!

There wasn’t an automobile quite like the Millenium Falcon. Ben told you the specs once during a tune-up, but the whole spiel went right over your head in favor of the rolling trolley you were playing with. From what you could recall, she was a 1950 -something purely custom Impala with fins like a shark. Cruising down the street it shone like a fresh pearl, emerging from the Organa-Solo household garage like Venus birthed from sea foam. With plush, red hot leather seats, a broad steering wheel that always looked better with one hand on twelve and the other elbow on the driver’s side door. Systematic, hydromatic, complete with those ugly fuzzy dice, the Falcon was a pussy wagon and behind the wheel, Ben looked like a rock star that just got the best head of his life...again.

Which is why you insisted he leave it.

Your four-door not-convertible was a lot more comfortable, better-ish mileage, and driving it would help ease the tension that kept you up at all hours last night. You felt invisible and ugly behind the wheel of your Nissan and there was comfort in that. Maybe Jack would ignore you all weekend and maybe his skinny latte girlfriend would too. Maybe you would get there and enjoy a nice weekend with Andi and her fiancé and get dinner and get drunk and do all that crazy stuff you did in college. Maybe Ben would be there right as you fell over drunk this time, and not after the fact.

“You never answered my question,”

Your eyes blinked back into focus, the clouds parting enough to let a few rays of sunshine through. Across the patio, the bell on the juice shop door jingled, welcoming two women in athletic gear into its colorful interior and from behind you, the door to the Starbucks swung open too, the sweet scent of espresso swirling into the crisp morning air. You inhaled, folding your arms tighter across your chest, knees bowing out from the bench. You bounced them anxiously. "What question?” you murmured.

Ben cocked his eyebrow behind his Ray Bans, looking back out across the patio. He mimicked your posture, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, “You haven't said a word since we got out of the car and that was,” he checked his watch, “fifteen minutes ago.”

You squinted in the light of the sun, “I was talking on the way--wasn't I?"

"Just at the lady in the Prius," he replied "You told her to go fuck herself."

“She deserved it, she cut me off.”

Ben leaned towards you, resting his chin on his shoulder, his voice smooth like a low-hanging hand from a hammock, "I asked you if you were alright," he said.

Maybe you did hear that question--but if you did, it got lost in the cyclone of your mental state. After spending forty minutes clutching your steering wheel saying nothing but swearing at some bitch with an eco-friendly automobile, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to answer Ben’s question as honestly as he had hoped. Your mental theatre hadn’t covered the topic of this exact day--not past the things you strategically packed to make yourself feel better about the circumstances; your favorite dress to wear to the dinner and a one piece bathing suit instead of the two piece that Jack bought for you. It was these things that occupied your thoughts--hypothetical scenarios of you being the confident woman you currently were not. So maybe you did know the answer.

He leaned back against the bench, the sun reflecting off his sunglasses, "Look kid, if part of me being here is going to be keeping you from blasting off when someone asks you that, I should at least be able to get an answer from you,"

"I'm fine," you said, your eyes focusing on a toddler as his mother led him from the juice shop. He almost fell and you wished for a second that he did.

"You're fine and?"

You turned your head, arms still tight across your bosom. "I'm fine and I'm not a--"

Ben grinned, "Not a what?"

"I’m fine and I'm not a...a 'goddamn 'Mickey Mouse''--” your cheeks flushed with anger, “--where did you even get that from, anyway? What does that even mean and why are you making me say it?"

“Considering the context of this situation, I think you know exactly what it means," he replied, “And it’s fun to say--you can’t say it with a straight face,”

“Mickey Mouse.”

Ben’s grin turned into a snickering and toothy chuckle, “Trust me, kid: You’re doing just fine,” he settled into his bliss, “You’re a perfectly functioning adult with a perfectly normal male friend who isn't around just to intimidate your ex,”

This demanded your attention and a scowl. “Not helping,”

He deflected with his cheesy grin, “You know.” He said stretching his arms back , "it's not too late to fuck off and get a pizza at the house. Whaddya say? Should we blow this popsicle stand?"

You almost considered it-- that pizza place that delivers in forty minutes or less had the best creamy chicken and bacon pizza on this side of town; quite possibly the only creamy chicken and bacon pizza in the city, and it was delicious. Delicious enough to hard consider staying in this weekend--with Ben and all his sweet smelling glory. If you got drunk enough, maybe you would kiss again. Why were you thinking about this?

Filled with an irrational fear that he somehow heard you, you looked over at him and he returned your gaze with a simple smile as he awaited your answer. "Damnit, Ben," you grumbled hugging yourself tighter, "This is for Andi-- and you know I'm on a diet,"

He laughed, “You’re still going to eat a whole box of Oreos and even if you think you won't, you're absolutely going to--”

“--Holy shit!”

Both you and Ben whipped around in the instance of a familiar voice.

Standing in the doorway to the Starbucks with her latte was Adrina. With her bleach-blonde hair pulled up onto her head in a ponytail and Yoshi bag tossed over her shoulder, she looked exactly as you remembered her. And you were exactly how she didn’t.

“Andi!” you gaped, “Dude, you’re early,”

“And you’re fucking blonde!” She cackled, “Who’s going to explain themselves first!”

You scrambled to your feet and around the bench, into her arms.

She squealed as she squeezed you, rocking you from foot to foot. “Oh my god!” Adrina sighed into your shoulder going from a gentle rock to an excited bounce up on her toes. She pushed you to arm's length, using her free hand to pull a lock of hair from the corner of her mouth, “I can’t believe you’re here! Oh my god--oh my god,” Her eyebrow furrowed suddenly--the same moment you’ve experienced since her invite on this trip happening before your very eyes.

Without looking behind her, she put her latte into the hands of her fiance and put both of her hands on your shoulders.

You put your hands over hers and gave her a brave little smile.

“How’ve you been?” she asked softly.

“I’ve...been,” you chuckled, “I haven’t seen you in forever, how are you?”

“Me?” Andi scoffed, “Who gives a shit about me, dude? I have been waiting months to see you again! You look gorgeous!” she took a lock of your hair in her manicured finger, “This color is fantastic on you, Y/N--I..” she put the back of her hand against her mouth. Looking at you, her hazel eyes glittered with tears before she collapsed into another hug, squeezing you as tightly as she could.

Deep in your chest, you felt the same pull to tears, but you bit it back, knowing Andi to cry whenever you did. She hugged you as if it was that first day without Jack, the tenderness of her embrace making up for all the lost time.

When she mustered the courage to look at you again, she did, cupping your cheeks with hands warm from holding her latte, “I am so happy you’re here you have no idea,” She pulled you into another hug, murmuring into your shoulder “No birthday is the same without you--it’s just the facts, I don’t make the rules--”

Suddenly you remembered Ben and you tripped over your own tongue, as she released you, "Oh, Andi-- you remember Ben, yeah?”

“Ben Organa-Solo?” Andi laughed, any trace of her tears being wiped on her fingers, “How could I forget this maniac?”

Adrina released you and danced on her tiptoes before embracing Ben as much as she could with her short arms. He squeezed her hard, lifting her tiny body up off the ground a few inches. Landing back on her ballet flats, she was full of laughter again, “It’s good to see you, too! My god, this is already the best birthday ever!” she let go and drove her fist into his abdomen, “How long has it been since I’ve seen you? What’ve you been up to?”

“Oh you know,” Ben replied putting his hands in his pockets, “Loans, the family business--post grad bullshit,”

Andi looped her arm around you as she listened, your elbow resting on her shoulder in reply, “Don’t I fucking know it!” she laughed, “I’m telling you, I didn't use to drink that much, but after graduation, I'm less of a lightweight. This whole weekend is going to be ‘Get fucked up with my best friend--and extras’..”

“Extras?” From behind her, Aaron piped up, offering Adrina her drink back, “extras like in a movie, yeah?”

Andi expelled a laugh she couldn't quite contain taking her latte from her fiance by the lid, “Aaron!” she snorted, “my love, my favorite boy and sweet chili flake. Yes, exactly like that,”

“Y/N,” Aaron beamed, “And Ben! Good to see you, man.”

Aaron held out his hand and Ben shook it like the proper businessman he was. He patted Ben on the shoulder as he engaged in conversation, Adrina folding her arms across her chest with an arch to her plucked eyebrows. She looked at you and rolled her eyes. ‘Men’, they seemed to say, but you looked on Ben with a gentle fondness.

You turned around habitually, attention wandering to your car in the parking lot, admiring how the sun shone on the roofs. The feeling like you should have been at work started melting away--excitement brewing for the weekend ahead of you.

Slowly, you settled into the moment. Adrina’s contagious laughter, Aaron’s feeble attempt to follow the conversation, the smile Ben snuck you between parts of the story he was telling: All of these gave your heart refuge--in fact, you almost forget you were expecting at least two more people.

And then, a white Prius pulled into the spot beside your Nissan. The doors opened in slow motion and a soft head of brunette hair rose from the passenger’s side.

Jack appeared from behind the door, his hair looked even more auburn than you remembered, tossed in gentle waves along the top of his head. Behind his squared glasses were his emerald eyes speckled with brown, turned towards his lap as he got out of the Prius. His broad shoulders sported his usual plain-colored button up over a graphic tee like the male child mannequin at Old Navy; all the way down to his true blue Vans.

And climbing out of the other side was a girl you had only seen in Facebook pictures that Adrina was in too. Not that tall, with her long brown hair pulled back into one low ponytail, bangs in two pieces that framed her round face. She was dressed plainly, without makeup and a small messenger bag over her shoulder; Ashley. She wasn't how you imagined her at all, but it wasn't surprising that Jack wasn't driving a vehicle of his own. She stopped to fluff her hair in the window, car keys around her finger--

Just like you.

She turned her head towards the patio and caught your blank stare in a moment of great electricity.

But it was only Ben, slipping his hand around your shoulder and tugging you closer to him that startled you. His warmth snapped you out of your trance and you turned your shoulder away, the iciness in your chest melting away into the scent of his cologne. Jack Wagner--you saw him in the flesh, and your heart was filled with desires to touch and even smell him again--to be surrounded by him--but this was not how it used to be. This was now and now, he probably wasn’t even going to acknowledge you. This sensation made your stomach hard and heavy with ache. Looking at him was like looking at an old photograph, it filled your heart with agonizing longing, like the shock of a missed step in the dark.

  
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see her walk around the front to his side and secure her hand in his. You looked away.

“Oh, there’s Jack,” Adrina rolled her eyes, “he’s always fuckin’ late. Jack! Over here!”

You folded your arms across your chest and released your clenched jaw, wincing at the confetti you made out of the inside of your cheek. Ben pressed against you from behind and you flinched, but he steadied you, slipping his fingers into your palm.

You opened your hand and he interlocked his fingers with yours for a matter of moments before letting go, just as Jack and Ashley finished their approach.

Andi greeted him with a playful knuckle drill to the arm that earned a sour look from his new squeeze, “I hardly see your ass anymore and now you still can't even be on time for my damn birthday!”

“We forgot your birthday card,” Jack said sheepishly, “We had to stop at the Target to get a new one,”

“And the Amazon gift card was in there too,” said Ashley, her voice was sharp like a barbed needle. She had her eyes on you when she spoke and you fought the urge to scowl back. Ashley turned back to the conversation, “Oh well--we’ll just give you the twenty-five in cash, happy birthday, Andi!”

The knot in your stomach got tighter watching her step forward to hug Adrina. Andi accepted the hug with an ounce of surprise--shame washing over you for not wishing your best friend a happy birthday. You satisfied yourself with the fact that it wasn’t until Saturday anyway. In that split second, you caught Jack’s gaze, but he didn’t hold it for that long.

Andi looked at you and when she was released, she cleared her throat, turning her attention to Jack, “I do believe introductions are in order,” she said looking then to Ashley who acted surprised to see you there.

Jack exhaled, pressing his lips into a thin line. Invasive thoughts commandeered your mind’s eye, peppering your concentration with sensations and memories of kisses from those lips. Your heart nearly came to a stop in your chest.

“Y/N, this is--”

“--Ashley,” she said with the smile of a bitter runner-up, “Girlfriend. I’ve heard so much about you.”

The sound of your name from his mouth felt like a dagger and when you opened your mouth to reply, you found yourself dry and miserable. You weren’t even ready to hear she was Jack’s girlfriend in such quick succession. Any other shockers would surely put your heart into cardiac arrest--you didn’t even have the emotional capacity to react to her snotty comment.

“I’m--uh..Y/N.” You stammered, “Oh and uh--this is my, uh--”

“--boyfriend.” Ben stepped forward instinctively, “Her boyfriend.” He put his hand out past Ashley directly to Jack, “Ben Organa-Solo,”

Oh--

Flustered, Jack returned the kind gesture with a hand speckled with the lint from the inside of his pocket. “Y-yeah--uh--we’ve met.”

\--No.

“Nice to meet you, Ben--” Your daze was shattered by Ashley’s needle voice, as she reached her hand out to him. Fingers down, she offered her grubby hands to Ben with a demure smile as if she were a princess. “--I’m Ashley.”

Ben ignored her gesture. “--We know,”

Your eyes flashed to Ashley who scowled in your direction in response. Oh my god-- this was still happening.

“Ashley works at a vet clinic!” Adrina chimed in, “She does the same stuff Marnie wants to d-”

“--you’ve--uh--been together long?” Jack squinted as he re-entered the conversation, talking louder over Andi, who was shuffled into silence.

Ben smiled with his eyes, “Sure have,” he put his arm around you and leaned into you shoulder, “We’ve known each other since school--it was bound to happen eventually,”

“Yeah..” Jack murmured, “‘spose it was.”

“Dude!” Adrina suddenly bounced back into the conversation, “Speaking of school, college was fuckin’ crazy, right?! Remember that time Y/N fell off that fucking table at the frat party? That was wild!”

“It was,” Ben said, but Adrina was not in his line of sight, he was still staring firmly at Jack who had tensed his back like a cat in the face of a rival stray. “Small world at CU. Everyone knew each pretty damn well.”

Jack rocked back onto his heels, folding his arms across his chest. “Uh-huh--I guess that’s what happens when you know a lot of people--you get around,”

“I need coffee!” Your interjection broke the hard stare between Jack and Ben, stopping Ben’s clenched fist from flying, “Do you need coffee? Because I need some coffee like--now. NOW.” You took Ben’s wrist in both of your hands and yanked it down, beginning the dragging of his massive form towards the Starbucks entrance.

Ben got the door and yanked it open with his flushed fist, his eyes still focused hard on Jack.

You stomped inside and dragged him after you, capping the end of the zig-zagging line of sleepy and cranky Starbucks patrons. Using Ben’s broad form, you put him in-between you and the window where you could see Jack.

Ben was looking too, his lips turned down in a dark scowl in Jack’s direction.

“What the fuck, man! Hey!” You snapped your fingers hard off the end of Ben’s nose

He turned to you, cheeks flushing with anger, forearms still flexed to his balled up fists, “What?”

“I said,” you snarled, “what the fuck, man! Are you kidding me?”

Ben put his hands behind his head, exhaling through his nostrils. It was only then you noticed how flushed his neck and ears were.

Still, you jabbed him with your index finger, demanding his immediate attention, “What the hell were you thinking!”

“What do you mean ‘what was I thinking’!”

“Aside from being three seconds from sinking your fist into my ex’s schnoz, you told him you were my boyfriend?! What the fuck!”

“He called you a slut! Or are you gonna pretend you didn't hear that.”

“This wasn’t supposed to be a shitshow, Ben!” You hissed, the line shuffled and you took a step backwards to follow its path, “We made a deal! No fake relationship!”

“Alright!” He threw his hands up, “Fine! I admit it, I wasn't thinking, but you were falling apart out there, kid, what was I supposed to do?”

“What I asked you to do!” Spit fluttered out from between your clenched teeth, “You were just supposed to stand behind me and crack jokes not try to one-up him!”

The line shuffled forward again, “Is that what you want?! Huh?! You wanna crumble a-and fall apart in front of him? A-and his little dog too? Come on!”

“Maybe I do!” Your chest grew hot with tears as they started to well in you, “Maybe I do want to be the exact mess he expects me to be! At least then, he’ll be satisfied!”

“Would you listen to yourself? For fuck’s sake--” He sighed, pressing his lips together in a firm line, opening his chest with his hands on his waist. In that moment, your chest shuddered in guilt for your outburst.

Ben returned to you following several deep breaths putting his hands on his thighs, “Listen to me--please--you don’t want that, I know you don’t,” he murmured, “You told me that the last thing you wanted was to give Jack any power over you but this--” he gestured to the window, “he’s got you pinned.”

Your chest fluttered with molten discomfort.

“But if you saw what I saw--you and me?” He wagged his finger back and forth between you and shook his head, “--he doesn't like that. If we push this agenda--this--phony love story, he's gonna fuck off and it'll be like he's not even there. You can get the weekend you wanted with Andi and I can watch your back.”

Your eyebrows ached for a moment as your heart came to terms with the way he looked at you.

“Look, no one but us will know our relationship is bullshit--itll be our secret--we’ve kept secrets before..”

Plenty of secrets--not just the other one no one knows about--not even Andi. Never in your life would you have expected hostility from Jack, but the situation seemed so dire. Imagining how you’d handle this without Ben made your heart physically fearful, but in his eyes, under his hands, you felt safe; Safe enough to agree to this downright nutty plot. “Okay..” you breathed,your surrender making the heaviness dissipate into butterflies, “We’ll do it.”

Ben’s stern look melted slowly to his sweet puppy-dog face “..Yeah?”

You nodded, “Yeah.”

Ben lifted his arms and dropped his hands on your shoulders “Alright, here's the plan: You’re going to tell that cute barista what kind of lattes we want, I'm gonna pay, and when we get them, we’re going to walk out there hand in hand like we’re Jay-Z and Beyoncé on the red carpet.”

That alone terrified you.

“Now,” Ben cupped your cheeks and leveled his gaze to yours, “look me in the eye and tell me how much you love your fake boyfriend,”

“Welcome to Starbucks, what can I get started for you?” the voice of the peppy barista was a hard reminder you were still even in need of caffeine.

Between her voice and Ben’s bold statement, your heart was in your throat, preventing you from doing anything but stammering.

He pulled you by the cheeks and pressed his lips against your forehead. “That’s alright we’ll work on it--” he chuckled, “I need my phone and your car keys.”

Reeling still from Ben’s quick kiss, you fumbled for your purse and produced his smart phone. He plucked it out of your hand and unlocked it in one fell swoop. He straightened his back, stretching his shoulders one way then the other. “Hey, Ky--it’s me. You at home?” he smirked, “I need a favor,”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated~ see you for part three!


	3. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well,you certainly didn’t see that coming, but Ben assures you that everything will be okay. Now that you’re ready to return to the house after what feels like decades, will his words comfort you through the painful memories to come? This is surely only the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so..... enjoy <3

When Kylo arrived, he was in no need of explanation. He was arguably the most intelligent afterall; not that it took much for him to conclude that Ben was in desperate need of showing off. Putting the Falcon in park, he lifted himself out and put the keys in Ben’s hands, taking yours from his.

You were in the passenger’s seat by the time the trunk slammed, Ben appearing suddenly as he vaulted over the door. He made himself comfortable, rubbing his hands together before sticking the key in the ignition.With a good turn, the Falcon purred to life, the radio clicking back on, and a guitar riff rolling out from the sound system. As he adjusted a sensual grip on the steering wheel, Kylo put his hands on the driver’s side door.

“Hey.” He snapped his fingers between Ben’s eyes. “No speeding.”

“You sound like dad, shut up,”

Kylo grabbed his brother’s earlobe between his thumb and forefinger, shaking him back and forth, “And take care of her, will you? No more bullshit.”

Ben ripped himself free, but in doing so caught Kylo’s hand that fucked up his hair. Across his brother’s yelp of protest, Kylo reached over and pinched you gently on the cheek. You waved gingerly as Ben swatted him away, putting the Falcon in reverse and tearing out of the parking lot.

Soon, the city streets and interstates melted to a single desert highway that stretched as far as your tired eyes could see. Mountains lined the valley on one side sloping up from the barren and rocky landscape to a hint of what you swore was snow. But knowing what you knew of the desert, it could have easily been a trick of the way the heat simmered off of everything it touched. Even against the Falcon’s shimmering paint job in the breeze of Ben’s cruising speed, the top of the door where the window disappeared was hot to the touch. You kept your elbow right on the inside against the plush door lining instead, letting the wind push your hair back like the superstar Ben imagined himself to be.

It was no wonder at all why Ben loved this car, echoes of how it made him feel attempting to sink into you, but something in your heart rejected it. There was still doubt in you, images of Ashley’s pug face and Jack’s well-rounded cheeks. You barely recognized him today and that put the fear of something unknown and sinister in you. Such thoughts were only cured by the sight of Ben looking the way he did.

Every now and then you glanced over at him, looking cleanly shaven, his handsome hair so carelessly tossed from his face, Ray Bans looking crisp and clean on his nose. The way he leaned back in the driver’s seat, one hand on the steering wheel, you could see the muscles in his arm flexing to keep the car under control, but the Falcon obeyed his every command: accelerating, decelerating, and steering perfect like a woman devoted to his touch. 

At times, you found it was hard to want to look at anything else. Like a beam of holy light granting your sanity back, the image of him gave your heart a moment’s rest. Until you remembered the circumstances. When the thoughts returned, you looked away, anxiety bubbling in your gut as you tried to quell them. Knowing you’d be unable to explain such a dumb thing, you didn’t keep your gaze on him long, or anything else for that matter.

“ Punchbug!”

Ben knuckled you before you could even hope to react, startling you from your daze. You blinked slowly, raising your eyes over the hood of the Falcon. The pinkest Volkswagen you’ve ever seen cruised across the front of the car towards the exit lane. Punchbug indeed.

With his hand still on the steering wheel, he nudged you a second time, turning his victorious fist into a gentler one “Punchbug,” he said again.

You simply looked down at his fist, and in a moment of a distinct mood change, he released it. He adjusted himself up and fished down into his pocket. When he opened his hand to you, you saw lint of course, but under that, a shining penny glimmering in the sunlight.

The breath you were holding finally released in tight restraint as you gazed at it. Shifting in your seat, you picked the penny up and fondled it between your fingers, knowing what he was asking you to do. Sitting back, you felt comfort in it’s presence, like a small piece of Ben was waiting with open ears; nearly forgetting the real one doing just that. You tucked the penny away.

“I’m anxious,” you murmured, becoming aware of just how much your tongue weighed. “I’m very anxious.”

Ben exhaled in an air of relief, “I know, kid,” he replied. You felt healing properties in his words alone, but he went on, “but I’m here for you. Always have been, always will be. ” Saying this, he opened his penny hand again and you looked at his empty palm, rough hands made smooth by what you smelled was your lotion.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been to this house..” you said slowly, your fingers finding their way between his, “we--Jack and everyone--we used to come to this place twice a year even before I knew you. This is baggage that hasn’t been unpacked yet…”

He acknowledged this with his eyes on the road, hand still gripping the steering wheel, the hand in yours letting your fingers trace along his broad palm. The sensation filled you with calm.

“Jack’s not a moron, you know..” you added, “In a few hours time he's gonna know we're faking it and then we'll look like idiots when he calls our bluff every chance he gets. I’ll be embarrassed beyond reconcile and be forced to live out of my car, an outcast from society.”

This eased a smile on Ben’s face and he opened his palm, giving your fingers more space to work with, the warmth from his hand perhaps easing you, “You give that bozo too much credit,” he said, “nothing he is capable of will drive you to exile. Not as long as Oreo keeps making new flavors and you keep missing the chances to buy a boyfriend pillow.”

You frowned. “I really want one..”

“I know, kid.” He squeezed as many fingers as he could, “What can I do, hm?” he asked, “What can I do to put a smile on your face at least just for now?”

“ I don't know,” you murmured, “You aren’t that funny..” 

The stoplight turned red and Ben eased on the brake as he approached with a chuckle. As the Falcon came to its stop, he looked over at you, the full power of his rockstar gaze melting a small part of you that you were actively trying to suffocate. “How about some music,” he said, “How about--” the idea struck him faster than you could answer his first question, “How about we pick a song.”

You looked up at him, “A song.”

“ Yeah yeah! You know—Like our song for us,” Ben stole a glance in the rear view to see his own Ray Bans, fluffing out his hair again, “Our song.”

“ But fake,”

“ But fake,” Ben stumbled slightly over his words, “Fake for them, but for you, something to make you feel better, ease your troubled mind and for me just—you know, a cool song.”

In his rambling, your mind left the Falcon to a glittering dance hall that swelled with music. You remember taking Jack by the hand, but he didn't budge, “Do we have to have a song?” you asked, “We can't just...excessively hold hands and do those nose kisses all the time that everyone does that makes single people nauseous?”

In your peripherals, you swore you saw him turn pink the way his brother does; on the corner of his smile, rippling through his dimples. “We could do that if you want to, kid.” he replied, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel, “ I just wanna--really stick it to 'em, you know?”

You glanced over at him. His eyes were on the road, you could see his lashes through the bar of his sunglasses.

“ I wanna make him regret coming after you like that.”

His words made you a new kind of warm, different even from the warmth that kept the icy glares of Ashley off of you when you and Ben strut out of the Starbucks; even though you tripped. You thought again of that dance hall and of how cold your hands were. “For what it’s worth,” you said quietly. You looked down and again you hand found Ben's. “We didn't have a song..Jack and I.”

The light turned green, but Ben was looking over at you. As he eased on the gas, the Falcon purred and he turned his eyes back to the bow of the car. “Alright,” he said, his smile sparkling with resolve, “Alright it's settled,” he closed his hand around yours, “you and I will have a song and we’re gonna play it on a boombox everywhere we go so Jack and that pig-faced witch can eat their hearts out.”

Your laugh was involuntary, “Ben.”

“ What? It’s no mystery Jack’s an ass, but I saw the way she looked at you, it's like she's trying to curse you but keeps shitting her pants instead."

“ Ben!” you snorted, “Let’s go back to the song. I’d rather think about that.” Although the image of Ashley’s horrified face when she saw you at the Starbucks filled you with a sense of victory just by existing.

Proud of himself, he beamed, rousing your phone and tapping in the passcode, “Alright, kid, what do you want?”

The thought of a song made your chest flutter with--excitement? You couldn’t remember the last time you had this conversation with someone. For as long as you weren’t aware of it, this moment felt very real for a fake thing. “You don't have one off the top of your head?”

“ Even if I did we gotta decide together. It's our song, not my song. What do you like? Elton John? Fleetwood Mac? Backstreet Boys?”

You looked over at him with a cocked eyebrow. He stared back at you until it was considered unsafe to do so while driving, a few snickers leaving his lips when he started humming ‘As Long As You Love Me’. He stopped. “What?”

You turned your eyes back to the road, a single curl rebelling across your forehead. You pushed it back, “You don't want it to be convincing?”

The Falcon changed lanes with ease, “I do!” he replied, “You don't think something like Elton John can be convincing?” He cleared his throat and you braced yourself, Ben soon breaking out in what you could only imagine was ‘Can You Feel The Love Tonight’.

When his off-key murmurings offered no response, he sang louder, moving a tickling hand towards your knee. You swatted it away, “Keep trying, Ben,” you said with a sigh. “I'm sure you've got a winner in there somewhere.” This was a challenge Ben accepted without hesitation:

“' Your Song' ?”

“ No..”

“' Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing' ?”

“ ..nah,”

“' Baby One More Time' ?”

When you looked back, he was already jamming, murmuring 'baby, baby' under his breath. You rolled your eyes. “I won't say Britney Spears doesn't grant me peace of mind, but…” you sighed, “My old boyfriends..like old old, we had songs like ' Such Great Heights' ,  'Your Guardian Angel' , songs that to this day I can't listen to without thinking of them.”

“ Okay, then just pick one of them,”

“ N-no, Ben, that's the point, I can't disassociate my exes with those songs—they've made a lasting impact on me. I feel like if we want our song to be believable, we should have a song that we connect with--that..reminds us of each other.”

“ Well in that case, it'd have to be that song you used to sing when you were drunk—”

That earned him a look.

“ How'd it go again?  _ Lick, lick, lick, I wanna lick your _ \--”

“ \--Ben!” You flushed.

“ Oh, I know--” He turned left into the beginnings of blocks of desert neighborhood communities. Again, he unlocked your phone, “Let's let Spotify decide. Whaddya say?”

“ I say that's a horrible idea,” you murmured, hands still over your face, “but we might end up with Britney Spears again anyway so go for it.”

As he started to scroll, you rested your elbow on the door, listening as he shuffled through your joint playlist, one unenthusiastic ‘no’ at a time. It was only then you realized just what an amalgamation of taste it really was. Classic Rock, K-Pop, Musicals, Alternative, Punk Pop. It wasn't until Ben spoke again after what felt like ages and three decades worth of top one hundred charts in every genre.

“ What about 'Drops of Jupiter'?”

Something inside of you shifted, the piano chords ringing in your head like you were really hearing them in some sort of heavenly choir. It wasn't playing either, Ben just—said it. You looked at him, “What about 'Drops of Jupiter'?”

“ That can be our song! It's slow, romantic, perfect to slow dance to. We can say it was a Delta function and that you threw out your back and couldn't do the twerking contest and I felt bad and we danced and I had to hold you up because you drank too much whiskey for the pain,”

They way he described it convinced even you that it did indeed happen; Ben really knew you too well. “How is that believable?” you muttered, “Everyone’s song is ' Drops of Jupiter _ ' _ .”

“ Exactly!” Ben opened his palms on the steering wheel, “if everybody’s song is ' Drops of Jupiter' , then it would be the most convincing thing either you or I could come up with. Besides--” he rolled his neck to see you, “I know you love that song,”

You blushed, “As if,”

“ Okay you don't like ' Drops of Jupiter' , let’s let Spotify decide for real. One last time, no skips.” The Falcon rolled to a stop at the stop sign and he leaned over tapping in your phone’s pass code yet again.

Far from amused, you turned your attention to your iPhone in the cradle over the radio. Ben twirled his finger, “Big money, no whammies!” he pressed the ‘shuffle play’ button.

Anticipation for the song’s start gripped you until the bass thumped through the Falcon’s sound system. You dragged your hands down your face in shame.

Ben’s head fell back with a howl of laughter so pure even you cracked a smile. “Oh, baby!” he cried, “I’ll never forget the first time we danced to  _ this _ song together!” he reached over you and shook your thigh until you giggled, “The way you backed that ass up? Fuck, baby.”

You flushed harder still, holding your hands over your mouth even while you laughed.

“ I see you grooving over there, kid!” Ben bit his lip, “Show me something.”

Still fluttering with embarrassment, you found it in you to dance, even just a little bit, Swaying your shoulders back and forth, accentuating your chest from your lower spine. Ben watched you for an unhealthy amount f time, the beat moving to your hips that you swirled against the seat. Cheek bright pink, he snickered in the most Ben way, a purr rising in the back of his throat.

Ben drove your little dance party all the way into the last cul-de-sac until he rounded the end, pulling up in front of a white mailbox. 

Beyond that, the house.

He leaned over towards you to view the house from under the roof of the convertible as it locked into place. “Looks like we’re the first ones here,” he said, “you got the keys?”

You opened your palm and revealed them on your finger, “I do.”

He smiled, sitting back, “Go ahead and run inside, we might need to turn the air on before Andi gets here.” He stole a glance at you for a moment, the roof of the Falcon shielding you from the gaze of any one to see it. “You good?”

You nodded. Why was your mouth so dry?

He reached up and rubbed the top of your head, “Go on, then—I'll meet you inside.”

You turned back to the house and leaned against the handle, the convertible door coming open and the heat of the desert crawling in to your ankles.

It was exactly how you remembered it, one story and pleasantly pink at the end of a short strip of walkway. Where a green lawn would have been anywhere else in the state, was a large area of rounded gravel and budding cacti that were plump with pink flowers on beds of spiny needles. The house was embraced by a white fence that looped around the back to the pool deck that in your memory echoed with splashes and the smell of steak on the barbecue.

With your eyes still on the house, you absorbed the heat of the day, rising up out of the car and pushing the door closed behind you. It was as if the world around you had iced over, even the heat rising off the concrete slowing to an impossibly quiet simmer.

In the silence of your mind, you were filled oddly with bliss. The sight of the house conjured visions of your car in the driveway, armfuls of food coming into the house and laughter; so much laughter. Suddenly, your hand was on the door and fudging with the key, you pushed it into the lock, the air sucking in towards the den as you entered.

Stepping across the threshold took you back to the sixties, ringing nostalgia that resonated through your heart. Bright colors, white furniture, shag rugs, the one-story vacation house sprawled before you to a den lined almost completely with windows to the pool in the backyard. A flat screen television mounted over the fake fireplace stood adjacent to a pop art mural of former first lady Jackie Kennedy; obscenely large yet the most perfect thing about this place.

And like a breath of fresh air, the memories surrounded you again. When you blinked, you saw phantoms of your friends all around the table with red cups and pizza, the atmosphere bright and welcoming. You felt the rush of alcohol after three shots and every note you sang after that out of key. You felt a rough hand in yours. When you opened them again, it was an empty house that felt tilted, cold and different.

Fingers brushing the wall, you made the left into the dark hallway, shoes creaking against the wooden floors. Bathroom, bedroom, bedroom until your hand fell on the handle. You stopped, envisioning for a moment yourself leaning against the door year after year, one at a time until Jack was in tow. With a deep breath, you pushed the door open.

The room was much darker than you remembered, even the brightly painted walls looking dim in the afternoon light. You entered slowly.

Taking another step inside, you raised your eyes to the light fixture that your memory filled with light. Light that spread across the walls and filled you with distant sensations of love. Then, before your eyes, images of yourself passed through your chest, hair wet and dripping, turning around to press your fingers to your lips. The image of Jack covered his mouth and stifled his giggles as he wrapped your ghostly form in a towel, kissing your lips deeply around your finger.

In a wisp, the comforter flew up and you saw yourself underneath it, Jack holding the other end. He scrambled up from the bottom of the bed and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you secure in his arms. Your laughter echoed inside the memory between the pecking of his lips and visioned crickets outside the window.

And when it faded again, you saw yourself sitting there on the floor, the bed stripped of its sheets, bodies curled up in a nest full of pillows and pretzels, your head resting on Jack's chest.

You heard your own voice as clear as day:

“ _ I love you, Jack.” _

And without hesitation, he replied:

“ _ I love you too, noodle.” _

Suddenly, the room was flooded with light. You opened your eyes, the grey melting away to the bright hues of the room's true colors. As Ben entered, he looked in awe at the décor as he dropped your duffel bag onto the floor.

“ Hey, not bad, kid!” he beamed leaping onto the queen bed. He rocked from side to side, “Not bad at all.”

You raised your eyes to him, a tear finally freeing itself from the prison of your composure.

Ben's face softened, sliding to the edge of the bed and planting his feet firmly on the ground. He sat there for a moment, watching you carefully as you continued to absorb what you could of this room. When he saw the tremble in your lip, he got to his feet. Opening his arms, he waddled forward, collecting you against his chest.

Buried in his navy blue sweater, you were eased into the full force of sorrow. On the insides of your eyelids, your memories replayed themselves and your heart longed painfully for them to be real. Every moment weighed thick on the inside of your chest, your heart aching so heavily there were tinges in your left arm. Hands clutching the back of Ben's sweater, you started to sob, the sound of your first whimper urging Ben to hold you that much tighter.

“ I know, kid..” he whispered, “I know..”

You drew a jagged breath, squeezing him as as tight as you could in your weakness. His words, a tender sensation in your chest.

His hand moved slowly up your back, pulling your nearer, his sweater soaking up another sob until like an infant, you were soothed. Your tears became specks in his sweater and your sorrow, the kink in your eyebrows against his chest as you tried again to breathe. Oxygen finally filled your lungs, enough to ease you and enough to coax you to release the death grip you had on him, your hands slipping to his sides before Ben was ready to let go himself.

You gazed wearily up at him and he smiled, cupping your cheeks in his hands and wiping your tears away.

“ The hardest thing you’ll have to do in life is grieve the loss of someone who is still alive,” he said gently. With a sheepish shrug, he smiled, “But I know you’ve heard that one before,” 

You returned the smile, feeling the sun of his mother’s knowing tone shining brightly through his words.

He looked up and around, “You sure this is this the room you wanna stay in, kid? We have our pick.”

You sniffled, managing a nod. You looked up to the ceiling again, letting the presence that was Ben’s surround you again when you closed your eyes, “Andi gets the master, and the other one has two twins.”

Ben let go and looked down at you as if what you said was false.

Your lips curled into a smile and you covered your mouth, a laugh puffing out from in-between yet another sniffle. Ben put his hands on your shoulder and shared the giggle with you, putting his hands then on your cheeks and kissing your forehead. Laughter spread from your nose to your chest when he did this, a moment of mischievous bliss blooming inside of you.

“ My fuckin' girl,” he said putting his hands in your hair again. He ruffled it and meeting resistance, he flexed his muscles and lifted you up into the air, twirling you around.

“ Ben!” you yelped, kicking up your ankles in protest, but the laughter was too strong, your cracking voice dissolved into helpless giggle.

He hoisted you higher, your hips folding over the crest of his shoulder. “Look at you, you little menace,” he chortled, “I'm a bad influence on you, aren't I,”

“ The worst!” you laughed.

He let you down a few inches keeping your hips pressed to his pectoral. With his flexing arm under your tush, he wagged his eyebrows, “You got quite the grip there, kid, you been working out?” he patted you on the hip and you flushed.

“Ha!” you snorted, “When do I ever?”

Ben let go suddenly, reaffirming his grip under your rump before you could yelp, your body settling facing his chest. He leaned back to get a look at you, grinning like the fox he was. He tossed his bangs up out of his face, but they fell back so you helped him, pushing his hair through your fingers until you swore, you heard a purring moan in the back of his throat.

“ Thank you,” he whispered.

You rested with your arms around his neck, “You're welcome.” you smiled, “Are you going to put me down now?”

“ Maybe.” he replied.

“ Ben.”

He shrugged, adjusting you higher against him, “Maybe I wanna carry my fake girlfriend around all weekend. She's happier this way,”

You beamed, and in its ray, Ben seemed to melt, his eyes twinkling right back at you. “Maybe I am,” you replied.

He smiled up at you for another moment before you slipped forward into his arms. He put one hand on the back of your head as it rested in the crook of his neck, his muscles flexing to hold you steady with one hand; truly a feat only for a boy with the muscular girth of an Organa-Solo. He let you slide down his broad chest until your feet touched down on the carpet.

Just then, Andi's happy voice chimed from down the hall. “Where the  _ hell _ is my best friend!”

You laughed again, rubbing away what were left of the tears in your eyes.

“ Showtime,” Ben beamed, “Need a tissue?” he produced one from his pocket, “Mom never lets me leave the house without them,”

Taking it from him, you honked into it and tossed it into a nearby bin. “Yet you left successfully without underwear more times than I care to be aware of.”

He tucked the package into his pocket, “ She stopped checking after I was twelve.”

Suddenly, the door opened and Andi appeared with her sunglasses up on her head. She grinned, “Hey, you!” he tiptoed in and scooped you up in her arms. She glanced up at Ben as she began to waddle, one foot at a time back towards the door, “Sorry, Ben-Ben, I'm bringing this one with me to the store, it's tradition. We gotta stand in front of the wall of Oreos and select an entire box to eat by ourselves.”

Ben chuckled, “I can't see Y/N disagreeing to that proposition,”

You scoffed in protest.

Andi released you, “Just give me five minutes I gotta unpack and wrangle Aaron. You know how fiance’s are!” Ben wiggled his eyebrow when you made eye contact. Andi patted you on the shoulder and departed, flats flapping down the hallway. “Five minutes and this party bus is leaving!”

“Shall we?”

You turned to Ben, “You’re going too?”

He flipped the keys to the Falcon around his finger, “Never an excuse not to ride in style,” he replied. He ruffled your hair again with his other hand. You clapped your hands over his and held him tight. “Besides, what kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t try to influence your decision in Oreos so I could eat them too.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and walked you towards the door as he leaned down, “Jelly donut,” he whispered into your ear, “Cinnamon bun..!”

You laughed out loud and stopped walking, looking up at him as he stumbled to a stop, “oh, and Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“ It goes, 'lick lick lick  _ lick _ , I wanna  _ eat _ your dick,”

Ben flushed, his doofy smile breaking out across his face. Licking his lips, he started waddling again with a shrug. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, kid. I won’t say no.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
